Nadsat New Year
by TheWeasleyBoys
Summary: "It's about a quarter to midnight now, but we still have fifteen minootas left of this last year all to ourselves."


**Author's Note:** This idea came to me in the car on a ride to the house of some relatives, and it most likely takes place around eleven months before the events in film/novel canon start. Consider this a derelict's take on those glitzy New Year celebrations on T.V...complete with booze, swearing, and obscene-looking snowmen.

Nadsat New Year  
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It's all quiet out here on the waterfront tonight, which I guess might be a dobby veshch. Maybe all the other shaikas had the same idea we did, that there was no need for the ultraviolence when just about everyone on this island is out getting shitfaced and like waiting for that Yankee ball to drop. Me, I'm just glad for this glowing trash barrel giving us heat and light, which Leo's keeping a close glazzie on and adding trash here and there to keep it burning.

It's about a quarter to midnight now, but we still have fifteen minootas left of this last year all to ourselves. We decided to let Joel command the pocket radio tonight, and so he's got us turned into some You-Es-Aiee radio broadcast full of past news reports and songs and all that cal. I slooshy in to some starry slovos about a dictator snuffing it in the farthest East, only to be succeeded by his third malchick who sounds like he might be even more baddiwad than his dear dead Pee. Thank Bog I don't have to live over _there_.

I hear the shredding of a wrapper next, and then I viddy Nick breaking off half of a bolshy chocbar to melt in an iron pot over our fire. No doubt in my rasoodock, he plans on like turning it into spiked hot chocolate once he's added some moloko and vino to it for laughs and lashings. That will be just the veshch to fill us all up, especially once the other half of that chocbar is split into six and handed out. Nothing in the world like sharing, I think.

"_Mine_! Mine, mine, _mine_!"

Speaking of like sharing, it looks as though Toby and Charlie are having trouble putting together their lewd, malenky snow-veck. Sadly, both of 'em want to be the one to put the gulliver together and in place before they start in on giving it a _proper_ set of yarbles. Not wanting to viddy a conflict on this eve of the New Year, I quickly clear my gorlo and make my goloss be heard:

"No battles tonight, boys. Give it a pair of gullivers, if it pleases you."

That seems to work for 'em both, because then I viddy 'em not like arguing and going off to make their share of the two gullivers instead. _Dobby_. That should keep 'em from dratting until tomorrow night, where hopefully they'll find better targets than each other to have it out with. As for me, I'm standing at the edge of the flatblock's rooftop, watching the sky on purpose so that I can viddy exactly when the New Year's fireworks start to go off. That's going to be our signal to mounch, peet, and otherwise be as merry as we could ever get, because there's always that chance we might not find such lovely pishcha on the morrow. Still, with our next nochy after this one being the first of the New Year, we could always get lucky by surprise.

It would be nice to be lucky for _once_. Out here in this side of London, a lewdie has to scrape his pretty polly together for days on end just to get himself a decent loaf of bread, let alone anything fancy he wants to fight off that gnawing feeling in his brooko. Some say it's this like warming of the globe that causes a rookerful of weather changes, making it either rain too much or not at all where the grain is, and so any stalks that get out real horrorshow from that have to be priced higher for the sake of demanding supplies. Other people say it has to do with the State like catering every malenky veshch towards the rich, which means they'll get free and easy campaign cash when elections roll around again. As for the rest of us, we just grit our zoobies together and trudge our way through this jeezny one day at a time, scavenging where we can and mounching when we're able. Still...can't help but wonder if things might be different this year. What if some shaika falls apart, and leaves their territory up for the taking...? Wouldn't that be something to behold?

I think on this for just a moment as I turn my attention back to all five of my droogies. Joel gets an earful of an election due to happen in about a year or so, and mutters to himself that the results are already decided because there's nobody impressive to take on the current Prime Minister. Toby and Charlie, having worked out their dispute on gullivers and where to put 'em, are now like searching the rooftop for twigs or metal rods or whatever veshch they can use to give their snow-veck some arms. Nick's got that chocbar half good and melted now, and is putting in some moloko a few splatters at a time like some master chef, stirring all the while so that it neither clumps up nor burns. And Leo, my Number-One choice for second-in-command, tosses several more rookerfuls of trash into the burning barrel before coming to join me on my side of the roof.

"They got some lewdies in my flatblock going on about resolutions and all that cal," he tells me, lighting up a cancer before passing me one of my own. "What d'you think you'll resolve to get done this year?"

I smot at him real serious for one minoota before saying, "Earn enough at Sweeney's for some new shoes."

One second later, we're both smecking and like smoking at the same time, but not without Leo rolling his glazzies and pretending to think 'oh Bratty' like that's the oldest one in the book. The standard shoe price is still where malchicks like us can kupet a pair, so it's almost too easy to have that as a goal. It's a real tough idea of a resolution that Leo's looking for, so in an undertone I add,

"Actually, taking _him_ out real horrorshow might be so much better."

He doesn't have to ask me what I'm govoreeting about, because he and the others have already viddied my reason for themselves. I got the slovo 'Eunuch' tattooed into my arm by a certain skitebird's razor, and just like a few baddiwad vecks in the stories, I'd like for this Wanderer in White to know how it feels. Too bad I don't have any ideas on just how I plan to pull this off, because all of us also know both he and his shaika drat just a bit better than me and mine. Still, I have at least eleven more months to work this out in my rasoodock. Who knows what's yet to happen to us all?

"Showtime! Showtime, boys!"

The snow-veck is temporarily forgotten, the chocolaty moloko gets some vino added at the last minoota, and then the other five of us are half gathered around Joel and the radio, half watching the skies for those long-awaited fireworks to start bang-bang-banging and like exploding one after the other. There are loads of lewdies like calling out in one goloss the countdown of that sparkly ball in their Times Square, and once they all get from ten to one, all my shaika has to do is look up one second later and viddy those other sparkly balls of blue, red, green, yellow, white, and purple like exploding at once in the black sky. Nick wastes no time in delivering a mug's worth of the spiked hot chocolate to each of us, along with our respective shares of what's left of that chocbar. It might not be as eye-catching and like dazzling as that celebration across the water, but it's more than enough to prepare us for the year ahead.

**My Final Notes for Last Year:**

Things are getting interesting once again in this fandom, and so I feel like a round of Kudos is in order for all the writers and commenters that have gone before. So, without further adieu...

_Unfinished Business Kudos_to Kissing Fairies and Ashley Marie Whitford, who showed us that rich good girls and reformed bad girls can end up falling for the same malchick. Hope you guys can come back and complete your stories, I'm kinda eager to find out where they'll lead. Bravo to you!

_Git 'Er Done Kudos _to LetItBeXO who provided the first complete romance story and kept everyone in character. Bravo to you!

_Fire In The Hole Kudos_to Pet Archer, who didn't just give us all a new brand of love story, but gave it several chapters at once by way of updates. Bravo to you!

_Road Less Traveled Kudos_ to Dan Sickles, who gave a really interesting view into the mind of Frank Alexander. Bravo to you!

_One-Hit-Wonder Kudos_ to Technomad, whose 'Chapter 22' reminded us that Alex wasn't the only bad boy in the neighborhood. Bravo to you!

_Femme Fatale Kudos _to Cosmetic Doll, whose OFC Crystal Waters had the malchick wrapped around her finger, and not the other way around. Bravo to you!

_Hard Lesson Kudos_to Insert Kick-Ass Name here, who never thought twice about showing us how life with criminals isn't always romantic. Bravo to you!

_Beethoven and Bollywood Kudos_ to Nova Sinfonia, who provided us with the first international couple ever, Alex and Melody (from India, which...sadly is miles away from Egypt). Bravo to you!

_Yin and Yang Kudos _to Gilded Butterfly 16, who taught us that love can be both a redeeming force and a constrictive curse. Bravo to you!

And last but not least..._Massive Commentage Kudos_to Slytherin Quidditch, Tetisheri, Misty Day, PandaLove01, ClaraSigma, Frake Webster, Nose Bridge Pinch, Angel-La-Mordue, and my very first droogie, Chaos And Mayhem, wherever you are today. None of us would ever be here without your continued feedback and support, and so I for one salute you.

This is Weasley bidding you peace, moloko, and an ultraviolence-free New Year. Thank you and goodnight.


End file.
